


Boy Trouble

by Jamz24



Series: Slutty Evak [3]
Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: But they still love each other, CAN THEY WORK IT OUT, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, Evak AU, Evak Smut, Evak are on a break, Evak fuck other people, Even is the filling in two sandwiches, Even is versatile, F/F, F/M, I love multiships, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Married Evak (with complications), Multi, Pansexual Angst, Pansexual Smut, Threesomes, Unsafe Sex, angsty sex, escapist sex, girl cock, or are they?, self destructive sex, sex with strangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 10:54:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15141536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jamz24/pseuds/Jamz24
Summary: It’s World Cup 2018 - is it break up or make up for Isak and Even when there's trouble in Paradise?Angsty pansexual smutfic during a wild night of heartbreak and reconciliation. Enjoy!***“You know what’s good for getting over someone?Fucking someone else.”***





	Boy Trouble

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TabithaAnne (NeonViolet)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeonViolet/gifts), [skamsnake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skamsnake/gifts).



> Updated version of original Skam Secret Comm fic @skamsecretcomm for the World Cup 
> 
> If you can't take Evak fucking other people then this is NOT the fic for you! 
> 
> If you DO then - buckle up!!

 

 

“So you’re on a break from Isak again?” says Sonja carefully, pouring Even some more wine.

Even sighs and slumps down, covering his eyes with his hand. “Yes. No. I don’t know to be honest.”

He _does_ know actually – he’s been up since five that morning scrolling grimly and obsessively through Isak’s Instagram, but he’s not going to admit _that_ to Sonja. Isak’s posted only one story, a standard pic with him and his friends swathed in red beanies, scarves, shorts and football socks holding up a big Norwegian flag and “Boy Squad Hits Moscow, Fifa 2018!” sloganed across it.

But Even knows – he _knows_ – it’s not just Mahdi, Jonas and Magnus out there; _Jacob_ is there too.

And the _reason_ he knows that is because yesterday he used his sock account to go through all Isak’s followers and found that another friend – Julian, perhaps – has posted a blurry picture of the squad fixedly watching Sweden thrash Germany. Jacob is sitting squashed up to Isak so Isak’s practically sitting on his _lap_ , Jacob’s hand hanging familiarly around Isak’s neck with fingers curled lightly over his skin, their attention fixed raptly on the action happening off screen.

 _That_ would be bad enough, but Even’s also tracked down a celebratory post-match story filmed in someone’s hotel room, a five-second flash of drunken songs and shouting. There’s a brief shot of Isak in very tight shorts crammed in amongst all the revellers – and it looks like – looks _very_ like – _Jacob_ laughing behind him, his hand reaching around towards where Isak’s thigh would be, but the film cuts off at the vital point and all that’s left is Even’s fevered imaginings.

 _Jacob_ – the tall, trim, dark haired and blue-eyed team-mate on Isak’s five-a-side football team, the self-proclaimed straight guy that’s constantly hanging around Isak, laughing at his lame jokes, his eyes roving over every inch of the younger boy’s body, flicking at him with his sweaty shirt as they go off the pitch and into the showers.

Yeah, Even’s heard _that_ story before.

And – he hates to admit it – but Even knows that Isak’s only ever had sex with him; and now they’re on a break he’s _got_ to be excited, surrounded by possibilities, by attractive young men, feeling and returning their interest. When Even had discovered that he liked cock he’d gone out and gotten it from every conceivable source for a while – why would Isak would be any different?

It’s not that he _minds_ Isak sleeping with other people – as long as he’s still sleeping with Even – but Isak doesn’t even seem to want to be in the same _country_ as him right now, and the fact that he’s had to go all the way to Russia with _Jacob_ to “get some space” when Even had already said, really clearly and with an element of truth, that he’d be _delighted_ to travel hundreds of miles with Isak to watch a game that Norway hadn’t even _qualified_ to _play_ in –

Not to mention that the World Cup’s taking place in Russia, of all places, where carrying a rainbow flag or holding hands with another guy in public is enough to get you arrested or beaten up. Isak had just shrugged and shaken his head when Even had expressed concerns for his safety.

“I’ll be fine, honestly, Even. We’re in a big group, we’re meeting up with other gay football fans, it’s going to be fine, I promise.”

But that hadn’t stopped Even from worriedly scanning the sports news every morning looking for evidence of trouble.

“What happened this time?” Sonja’s sitting next to him on the sofa looking sympathetic. “You guys fight?”

Even shakes his head and groans. “No, not _fight_. He just –” He takes a breath, it’s hard admitting this out loud. “He said I was – _clingy_. Too possessive. He said he couldn’t breathe.” Sonja just nods, her eyes grave. “I know it’s his first proper relationship, and we live together all the time and the flat’s not that big and I’m too loud but – I didn’t mean to scare him _off_ , Sonja, I thought ringing him every lunchtime at his workplace would be _cute_ , and when he wants to go out with his new workmates – well, _I’d_ like to meet them too, Sonja, I _like_ meeting people, I didn’t think –”

“I know you don’t mean badly, Even,” says Sonja, taking a sip from her own glass. “But people need space on their own sometimes, you know.”

“Well that’s what he said, and we agreed to – take time out from each other.” Even sighs; even the words sound painful said out loud. “So he’s gone to Russia with Jonas and the boys to watch the World Cup.”

He doesn’t mention Jacob, because – no point.

Even’s fingers itch to check his phone again, see if anything new’s posted because France just beat Argentina earlier today, but actually it’s a _relief_ to talk to Sonja, she _knows_ him, it’s not like his monthly psych meeting where he has to scratch around for things to say.

“So you’ve been stalking him online?” asks Sonja, carefully applying red lipstick and gazing at herself in her compact. “I’m not sure that’s the _point_ of a break, Even, to – ”

“I’m just too much for him,” says Even sadly, gazing into his wine. He feels drunk with sadness, though he hasn’t really touched any of the alcohol. “I don’t think he’s able to handle me. I know I get a bit over the top, and yeah I shouldn’t want to know what he’s _doing_ every second, but – I do, Sonja, I _do_.”

“Even, you’re an amazing person.” Sonja puts her hand on his shoulder. “You’re tender hearted and loving and full of grand oversized stupid gestures. You’re also cute as fuck, and I can’t think of any guy out there who has that over you. I’m sure he’ll come back with his tail between his legs once he’s had time to think it over. You shouldn’t be too hard on yourself.”

Even sighs dispiritedly, shaking his head. “I’ve lost him, Sonja. I know it.”

There’s a ring at the doorbell, and Sonja jumps up. “That’ll be Emma.” She gazes at him anxiously. “Are you sure you’ll be all right now?”

“Yes. Yes, thank you,” Even lies, taking this as his cue to leave. Sonja’s dressed herself up for a date night with _Emma_ , she doesn’t want her loser ex-boyfriend hanging out moodily on the sofa in the background _obsessing_ over –

“Hi Even!” Emma comes in, shrugging off her fluffy fake fur coat. She’s looking like a queen in tight black jeans and heels, and she’s plainly made an effort for Sonja with her hair and makeup. They haven’t been dating long, only a few months, but at this rate they’ll last longer than he and Isak, Even thinks to himself bitterly, forcing himself to smile back.

“Even’s having boy trouble,” explains Sonja. “I said he could chill a bit and bend my ear til you got here.”

“Ah, I know all about boy trouble,” says Emma smirking sympathetically. “Isak’s a sulker. Just let him bore himself by staring up his own asshole for a bit, then go back and be your usual charming self.”

“I don’t know, I don’t know if there _is_ any going back. _He’s_ the one on a break, not me, and I can’t handle it. The truth is; we’re over.”

The words are out of Even’s mouth before he can stop them; _shut up you loser, what a downer to lay on your friends just before they’re going on a date_.

The girls look shocked. “So it’s not just a break? It’s an actual _break up_?”

“Sorry,” Even amends. “I’m in a bit of a hole right now. It’s okay, I’ll be going. I don’t wanna spoil your night.”

Sonja looks at Emma; Emma looks at Sonja. An unspoken message passes between them.

“Come on, Even, we can’t have you going like that,” says Sonja firmly. “You’ll only end up doing something stupid like booking a plane to Moscow or googling the hotel where they’re staying. Sit back down and have a few drinks with us.”

 

***

 

And whether it’s the relief of telling someone about it or the three glasses of wine that start to hit his empty stomach in quick succession, Even actually begins to _enjoy_ the evening. Sonja’s fun company – there were reasons that they stayed together for four years, he reminds himself – and Emma is witty and sharp, she’s far more confident than she was with Isak back in the day; they’re arguing over everything from trash TV to politics and for a little while he’s almost able to convince himself that everything’s OK, that it’s all just a misunderstanding and that a loving message from Isak will be waiting for him when he gets home.

“Want to watch the football?” asks Sonja, reaching absently for the remote. “I think Portugal’s playing Uruguay tonight?”

Even snaps out _No_ rather more bitterly than he’d meant.

“Sorry babe, I forgot,” says Sonja apologetically, holding out the bottle. “More wine?”

Even holds out his glass for her to fill. The blurry Instagram story still dances at the edge of his mind, and more wine is the only way to take the edge off _that_.

And more wine. Emma gets out a joint, Sonja turns the lights down, and at some point he realises that they’re curled up on the sofa together, Sonja’s arm lying warm along the back of his neck while Emma’s cuddled up in her lap, and out of the corner of his eye he can see that they’re holding hands, kind of linked fingers like he used to do with – _stop it_ –

And yeah, it’s a bit of a weird situation but he’s feeling happier and more relaxed than all week, because it’s chill and kind of hot that he can just, you know, _sit_ here and have drinks with his ex-girlfriend and _her_ new girlfriend and – _wow_ – see them _making out_.

Even blinks. They really _are_ making out just inches from him, and _that’s_ kinda –

Sonja’s lips are grazing Emma’s, Emma’s head is turned away but Even can see the slender line of her jaw and the way her mouth moves; he catches a flash of tongue and the way her pretty throat twists, just as Sonja leans in hungrily with a hard, deep kiss, making Emma tilt her head back and take her in, and – yeah, _okaaaay_.

Even swallows. He wonders for a moment if they’ve forgotten he’s even there, so he sits very still so he won’t disturb the view, sealing up every detail for later in what he jokingly terms his wank-bank. Privately he’s got a real girl-on-girl kink, and he’s pretty much seen every porn film ever made on the subject, so having two hot chicks tongue-fucking just inches away is pricking his jaded interest sharply; not least the exquisite knowledge that he used to go to bed with the blonde.

Sonja’s looking good, he thinks, she’s gotten thicc since she’s been with Emma, her bottom and breasts are fuller and more defined, and she goes well with Emma’s harder, sportier body, he can’t lie. There’s certain types of fantasies he and Isak could never enjoy together, given that Isak can’t even raise a tremor at the _thought_ of a girl, and – to be honest – right now Even’s starting to realise he’s missed girls a bit.

A _lot_ , it seems, if his body’s reaction is anything to go by.

Emma giggles as Sonja guides her into the kiss, fingers twirling through tufts of her short, dark hair until her girlfriend moans at the sensation. Even can see that Sonja’s other hand is snaking around her waist, fingers teasing at the strip of skin riding up underneath her silk top. Her hand slowly circles around, pushing the silky material up over Emma’s trim belly, up until it cups the swell of her small breast, squeezing at it hard and rhythmically. He can see a hard point of nipple peaking through the fabric as Emma groans in protest. She’s not wearing a bra, it’s clear, and Sonja’s working her good; brushing fingers against her nipples so they strain against the sheer silk of her top, pinching and squeezing til she’s hard, then moving down to rub her buttocks until Emma moans with provocation and starts to grind her thighs.

 _Damn_. The room feels very airless suddenly. Sonja shifts and leans back, and now her bottom’s pressing against Even’s hip, and he can feel her soft weight bear down and rub against him slightly as she leans to tongue Emma’s neck.

They _definitely_ haven’t forgotten he’s here, and Sonja at least is absolutely most definitely putting on a show for his benefit.

Even wets his lips and tries to breathe as quietly as possible. They’ve turned some kind of corner here, that’s evident, but he isn’t really sure of the protocol of having your ex-girlfriend make out with a hot woman whilst pressed up against you. He’s got into trouble before for socially inappropriate behaviour, and often you need to learn the codes, but there isn’t a manual for _this_ as far as he knows.

Part of him thinks he should just chill and enjoy the view, another (very tiny) part of him wonders if he should make himself scarce, but the larger, stronger part of him is keenly aware of the building pressure in his jeans, and he just wants to fucking lean over and –

 _Ping!_ The eight-hour mute on Even’s phone has expired, and the notifications are piling in thick and fast. _Ping! Ping! Ping!_

Sonja jumps and looks around, her eyes hot and heavy. There’s a smear of Emma’s lipstick across her mouth, and her hair is sweaty and mussed where Emma has pulled it. She smells of desire and excitement and _fun_ ; he’s entranced for a moment just by the scent of her, she’s _emanating_ fuckability, she’s just –

_Ping!_

Has Isak just _messaged_ him?

“Sorry, just gonna get a drink of water,” Even says, abruptly rising to his feet and tacking his way unsteadily across the living room. He’s drunker than he thought. “Be right back.”

In the solitude of the kitchen he pulls out his phone and frantically flicks through the notifications. No text, but there’s the match afterparty, and a bunch of attendant stories and photos. He turns the sound down to view most of them, boring, football stuff – _why would you go all the way to fucking Russia to film blurry matches on the hotel TV? –_ but then, on the last story from Julian, he sees it.

It’s a pool party – not the hotel pool – _whose is it? some rich Russian daddy they’ve found along the way?_ – and there’s laughter and cheering, and there’s a bunch of cute guys that Even’s never seen before, utterly and completely plastered by the looks of things, leaping naked into the water wearing nothing but football scarves to splash like hoodlums, and – wait, what’s that –

\- Even scrolls backwards –

That blurry background shot of two boys pressed into the corner of the swimming pool, chests wet and gleaming and hands pulling at each other’s hair; one head short and dark, the other longer, curly-blond – the smaller boy’s legs hooked around the taller boy’s bared hips, still wearing sodden, over-the-knee football socks but nothing else –

Even goes numb, staring at the paused video. His thoughts go so fast he can’t process them, so they cancel each other out in a whirling mass of white noise. He doesn’t know how long he’s been in there, until, as if from far away, he hears a voice calling his name.

“Even – are you okay? Even?”

It’s an effort to move, but somehow he manages to drag himself up and plod back to the lounge. It must be all over his face, because Sonja is in the corridor and at the sight of him she looks concerned.

“I thought you – are you all right, babe? We didn’t mean to weird you out with all the coupley stuff – sorry, I know you’re in a bad place right now.”

Even shakes his head, thumb savagely pressing down on the power key of his phone until the screen blinks and disappears into black nothingness.

“Kiss her again.”

 

***

 

Sonja kisses Emma again, and _again_ , and right now that’s all the distraction Even needs.

“More,” he murmurs blissfully. “Let me see your tongue.”

He’s lying on the bed between them, and now the show is super up-close and personal; the girls are literally kissing _over_ him, searching each other’s mouths gently, eyes blissful and half-closed. Emma is being shy and blushy and giggly, but Sonja’s encouraging her into it; little whispers and hair-pulls, winks and caresses, _come on baby, you know you want to_ , and Emma’s slowly losing her inhibitions under another glass of wine that Sonja’s pressing on her and slowly but surely letting Sonja do whatever she wants.

And Even knows what _that_ feels like.

What time is it in Moscow now?

_Stop thinking._

Sonja is a _great_ kisser, she’s pulling out all the stops with Emma, pulling at her hair and grasping at her throat until Even feels as if his eyes are going to pop out of his head. She’s also a bit of a boy; she likes to take the lead whereas Emma’s a bit more subby and compliant, so Even’s treated to the delicious dynamic of seeing the girl he used to fuck about to fuck another girl, and that’s simply the gift that keeps on giving.

“You know what’s good for getting over someone?” winks Sonja as she catches his rapt stare. “Fucking someone else.”

And there’s nothing in that sentiment that Even doesn’t agree with; although a tiny part of his brain is wondering whether he should at least _ring_ Isak, but it’s too late because Sonja’s bringing him into the kiss, and okay, here we are – the corner’s well and truly turned now but he’s too drunk to properly take it in before it happens. It’s a bit weird because a lot of it feels like it’s happening to someone else - all lips and tongue and slipperiness for a few minutes, Sonja’s lipstick and Emma’s lip-gloss are all he can taste for a while, but he picks up the groove quickly and now he’s kissing from one to the other, while his hands unthinkingly come up onto their bottoms, squeezing rhythmically, and fuck, he can’t remember getting _this_ rapidly hard in a while.

“God that’s good,” whispers Sonja, pushing her haunches back against his fingers. “Don’t stop.”

It’s kind of unnecessary because Even isn’t intending to stop; there really is nothing better than having a girl’s ass in your hands unless it’s actually two girls’ asses in both your hands which is a first for him, he’s not gonna lie.

“Take her top off,” mutters Even, and Sonja pulls at Emma’s black silk top. Emma puts her arms up and lets Sonja peel it over her head. Even’s jaw drops and Sonja laughs at his expression.

“Doesn’t she have the most amazing tits?”

Emma really does, and Even’s eyes are _all over_ that body of hers; her cute little boobs are picture-perfect, standing out like marble from her slender body, her nipples perky and begging to be sucked. Even’s mouth begins to water but Sonja gets there first, leaning her hands on Even’s thigh as she leans forward to tongue at her breasts.

“Ahhh, that’s so good, baby,” murmurs Emma, stroking Sonja’s hair. “Keep going.”

Sonja closes her eyes and licks up and down the curve of Emma’s breast, nibbling at the underside then licking back up to suck her as hard and needily as a baby. Even’s really transfixed at this, leaning closer so he doesn’t miss a single moment, and the next thing he knows Sonja is reaching out to put her hand on the back of his head and pull him in.

“Suck her tits,” whispers Sonja in his ear. “I want to see you suck her nipples.”

So, sharing your ex-girlfriend’s girlfriend’s tits with your ex-girlfriend is up there with Even’s most exciting and relevant sexual experiences to date; he’s loving tracing his lips over Emma’s skin feeling her nipples swell and harden on his tongue, and from time to time turning his head to the side to see Sonja doing exactly the same thing.

Fuck, he’s really _missed_ girls, he’s missed their softness and their smell and their taste and the way their nipples feel in his mouth, and it’s good that nothing here is really reminding him of Isak – _stop thinking about Isak_ – and – wow, of all the girls that he could be in bed with right now these really are two of the hottest –  

What time is it in Moscow?

_Don’t think about that now._

Sonja turns towards him so they’re kissing now, hard and long, alternating kisses with slow deep sucks on Emma’s nipples. Emma’s fingers are running through their hair, stroking and pulling, making both of them groan as she squeezes them closer together and Even’s jeans feel _unbearably_ tight.

A few kisses in there really isn’t anything stopping him sliding his hands up Sonja’s skirt to tease back her panties – she’s wearing a high-cut thong which _damn_ , he wishes she’d worn more when they were together – and then his right hand starts to slip down the back of Emma’s jeans … and fuck, he can tell Emma’s wearing nothing underneath, absolutely _nothing_ , and yeah, he’s starting to drool now.

“Not what you expected?” murmurs Emma into his ear. “I go commando most of the time,” and with that the pressure in Even’s groin is about to _explode._

It’ll be a piece of work to get her out of those jeans with one hand though, so he turns his attention to Sonja, slipping one finger inside her thong. Sonja groans, dropping her head like a filly about to be mated, arching her bottom up as Even’s finger glides between her legs to where he knows she’s going to be wet.

 “What the fuck are you doing,” murmurs Sonja, eyes misty and lips open.

“Fingering you,” whispers back Even, coaxing his finger further in until she arches her back slightly and bites her lip at the pressure. He’s kind of exploiting the knowledge he has of her, knowing to keep his finger just wide of her sweet spot so she has to arch her back and buck her hips to search for the pressure that she craves.

“Take her clothes off,” he whispers, pushing and pulling his finger up and down until Sonja groans. She’s hard and wet and Even’s teasing her; circling around the nub of her clit without actually touching it, before pulling back to linger outside her pussy with only the faintest of pressures. “Come on. Undo her.”

Sonja flashes him a hot look, then turns to her girlfriend; Emma’s kneeling up on the bed and Sonja fumbles with her jeans, sliding them down around Emma’s hips. Even’s cock jerks at the sight; Emma’s got slim thighs and a pretty, trimmed pussy – he hates it when girls shave like they want to be prepubescent kids, what the fuck is that all about – and yeaaaahhhh Sonja is on all fours in front of her, nuzzling between her legs and –

Fuck, he has to get out of _his_ jeans now, and –

He tugs at his clothes, but he’s sweating so much that it takes way longer than he’d like to peel everything off, by which time Sonja’s going down on Emma, tonguing softly right at the top of her clit while Emma strokes the back of her head.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, entranced, holding his tender cock gently with one hand – any sudden moves and he’s basically going to lose it over both of them immediately. “Can you sit on her face?”

Emma giggles and swings her thighs over Sonja’s shoulders, rolling her back onto the bed, her eyelids fluttering as Sonja takes her in her mouth again. As she starts to ride the other girl’s tongue, Sonja’s hands creep round to squeeze and pull at Emma’s buttocks, and that’s a sight that jacks it up a hundred times for Even.

“Spread her out for me,” he whispers, crawling up the bed to lie against Sonja and tracing his lips over Emma’s beautiful ass.

***

Even’s always loved eating ass but the girls he’s been with have never been into it as much as the boys he’s had – _stop thinking about_ – until it’s come to Emma. She’s lost her earlier shyness and now she’s shameless and excited, rocking back against his tongue and telling him to lick harder, deeper, faster; she doesn’t really have to, but it’s kinda nice to know how well it’s going down. At the same time she’s getting an intense double-sided licking; from Sonja on her clit and from Even on her ass, and it’s a wonder Emma’s lasting as long as she is, especially when Sonja sneaks a finger into her girlfriend’s pussy and lets Even do the same.

And finger-fucking a girl in her ass while your ex-girlfriend sucks her off is probably one of the proofs that God exists, because he’s never felt more like the Almighty in his life. If there _were_ such a thing as intelligent design, then the female body would be the most intelligent thing ever created, closely followed by the female orgasm. He can feel Sonja’s fingers moving around inside Emma, searching for her G-spot, and he tries to mirror it from the other side until –

“Fuck! What the fuck!” Emma bounces hard on Sonja’s tongue for a few final strokes, tightens her thighs and throws her head back, and Even can feel his finger vibrating from the intense spasm shuddering through her body.

 _Lesbian Jesus, I thank you_ he thinks to himself, curling his finger slightly to extract every possible ounce of sensation, until Emma moans and bats his arm away. “I’m done, I’m done. That was amaaaazing.”

“Feel good, baby?” whispers Sonja tenderly as Emma falls on her back on the bed next to them, laughing and panting. “He’s pretty good for a guy, isn’t he?”

“He’s not bad, for a guy,” Emma grins back teasingly at Sonja, and Even’s boner is about to spill badly; he _loves_ being objectified during sex, why don’t girls _like_ that more? He’d get objectified every fucking _day_ if he could. Emma’s looking flushed and dewy so he leans over to kiss her again, his cock leaking as it drags across Sonja’s breasts.

“God, Even, stop rubbing yourself off on my tits,” whispers Sonja crossly. “You’re squashing me.”

“Sorry,” mutters Even hoarsely, he’s fallen back into old habits here, because tit-fucking used to be their _thing_ , he used to love smooshing her breasts together and seeing his cock glide between them, thrusting hard into the softness until he came and splashed all over her neck and chin. “What – what do you want to do now?”

“You,” whispers Sonja, closing her fingers around his cock and wriggling down until she can open her mouth around his cock, licking teasingly around it.

Even’s eyes swim back in his head – Sonja was always good at this and if she wants a rematch then who is he to argue – and he rolls over her carefully so that he can lie on his back, propped up on one elbow, and enjoy the view. 

“Come on babe, have some of this,” murmurs Sonja, pulling gently at Emma’s neck, and her girlfriend obediently nestles in. Even groans, pushing their heads down helplessly, perhaps more forcefully than he should, and Sonja nips at his hand reprovingly.

“Gently! You’re not allowed to come yet, babe. We need a lot more out of you than this.”

Quite frankly, if Even can manage to withstand both of them kissing open-mouthed over the head of his cock, then there’s nothing he can’t manage in this life. Emma’s tonguing his shaft while Sonja sinks down to mouth his balls, and he’s holding the back of their heads and winding his fingers through their hair, and every so often guiding their faces together to kiss whenever he wants it. He wishes he had his phone on him to record this heavenly moment. Sonja would never allow it though, he knows that much, so he’s just got to exist in the here and the now, because having two girls share your cock is literally the thing that life was created for.

Although that thing is quickly surpassed by holding both their slender throats in each hand and fucking their mouths hard and deep, one after the other –

He’s really not going to last much longer, and just like that, he doesn’t.

***

What time is it in Moscow now?

_Don’t think._

***

“You wanna fuck me a bit?” whispers Sonja a short while later, closing her fingers around his second-round boner and massaging it gently.

What Even actually wants to do is have them both ride his cock, hard and repeatedly until his head is full of white noise and the world explodes around him, but he’s just given Emma head for the past twenty minutes and made _her_ ride his tongue like she rode Sonja’s, so Emma looks like she needs a moment, and he’s going to need every bit of willpower to last until she’s ready again.

“I don’t have a condom,” he mutters – it’s not exactly like he’s come out anticipating this scenario. “I don’t – didn’t use them with Isak. But we’re both tested, so it’s fine.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to get _pregnant_ , idiot. Male privilege, much?” Sonja pokes at him crossly and Even shrugs, bewildered. “Sorry, I assumed – I mean you used to be on the pill?”

“Why would I still be on the pill?” Sonja rolls her eyes. “You can fuck me a little, but if you come inside me, you’re _dead_.”

***

Sonja’s on all fours in front of him, because doggy-style always was their favourite position, and Even’s enjoying her round, marvellous ass; gliding the head of his cock teasingly up and down her pussy without fully penetrating her, circling her clit and flicking himself against it until she shudders and cries. Second-round boners can last awhile longer so he’s in no hurry; Emma lies next to them watching, occasionally stretching out a hand to stroke Sonja’s hair or Even’s ass.

“Are you going to fuck me or what?” moans Sonja, drooling into the bed.

Even grins. “Is she always this demanding with you, Em?”

“Always,” giggles back Emma. “She’s a total domme.”

“Beg for it,” whispers Even teasingly. “Say, ‘please fuck me Daddy.’

“I’m not – _saying that_ –“ gasps Sonja obstinately, as Even rocks shallowly inside her, pulling at her hair hard and teasingly. “Oh yes you are. Say it.”

It takes a bit more teasing and edging before Sonja finally groans out _fuck me daddy_ , and Even’s body is reacting to it at the same time his mind is remembering how Isak sounds when he says it – _enough_ – and now he’s fucking her with short, hard strokes, the angle is different from when he fucks Isak – _stop thinking about_ – a lower centre of gravity that makes him gasp and thrust and it’s really really hard to last, he keeps on having to pull out and squeeze himself down to keep from coming which elicits screams and threats from Sonja – _where the hell is a cockring when you really need one_ – and it’s only looking over at Emma’s growing arousal that’s keeping him back from going over the edge right this second. He tries to keep his thrusts as long and slow as possible, and when Emma takes his hand and puts it between her legs he loses his stroke and it’s probably as close to losing himself in the moment as he’s been all evening as he tips Sonja over the edge and get Emma wet again at the same time.

_Who says guys can’t multitask, huh._

“Fuck her,” whispers Sonja finally, her face flushed with orgasm and spit, finally pulling off him and flopping to the side. “I want you to fuck my girlfriend.”

And if those six little words aren’t the best request in the world, then what is.

Even wastes no time before he’s arching between her legs, and Sonja’s leaning over her, pressing Emma’s wrists to the bed, and Even’s pulling her knees up under his arms and hearing her cry out as he presses in; the head of his cock slipping easily into her warm, tight little pussy –  Jesus, he’d forgotten how straightforward it is to fuck girls sometimes, he hasn’t had to wrestle with a sticky bottle of lube all evening – and he’s going to come again soon, he knows he is –

“Fuck,” whispers Sonja, rolling off the bed and rummaging frantically in a drawer. “Wait, I’m coming back.”

Sonja straps up quickly which makes Even pause for a hot second; _this is a first_ , seeing his ex-girlfriend with a dick has him briefly wondering which of them is going to get fucked – before Sonja rolls Emma onto her side and wriggles in behind her and wow, so he’s going to do double-penetration with his ex-girlfriend with her girlfriend and there’s absolutely no way he’s going to manage more than a few minutes.

“You’re gonna be good for us, aren’t you baby?” whispers Sonja reassuringly, lubing Emma up with quick, practiced fingers. Emma preens at the praise and Even feels his cock jerking inside her; they obviously do this a _lot_ and _that’s_ something he’s going to file away in the top drawer of his wank-bank for later – lots of laters –

He braces himself, deep inside Emma, her leg hooked around his hip, as Sonja slides inside her ass. Even groans as he feels the blunt hardness move smoothly alongside his cock through the thin wall of Emma’s pussy. Feeling your ex-girlfriend’s cock pushing against yours while you’re both inside your ex-girlfriend’s girlfriend is a conundrum almost too sweet to bear, and Even has to concentrate on his breathing like a fucking yogi in order not to come there and then –

“Good girl,” mutters Sonja in Emma’s ear, stroking her hair as Emma’s eyes fly open, wide and staring into his as she’s opened up from behind, “take it, baby, take it – ”

Emma’s moaning _fuck, you’re so big_ , and Sonja’s tensing her hips as she bottoms out, and the pressure of her cock against rubbing against Even’s is building and building as they both begin to move –

“Oh God, Even,” gasps Emma, her eyes rolling back in her head, “fuck me, fuck me, Even –”

“Take it baby,” groans Sonja from behind, “let him fuck you onto my cock, baby, take it –”

And Even wishes they’d sound a little less like a porn film because then he wouldn’t have to worry about coming so embarrassingly quickly –

 

***

 

He’s walking through Vigeland and the night is cold, and it’s 2am so there aren’t any buses or trams this time of night. After three hard sessions with the girls he’s feeling light, but not light and unburdened which is how he hoped he might feel; it’s the kind of light that feels like you don’t have any connections to anybody, the kind of light that means that people look straight through you, and you might float away.

_You know what makes you feel better? Fucking somebody else._

Well, he’s fucked _two_ girls tonight, and –

Ultimately he’s not sure it’s made him feel any better.

Perhaps a _tiny_ little bit better?

_What time is it in Moscow now?_

Better fuck some more.

 

***

 

He walks up past the sculpture park, and makes a detour past the public toilets, dark and shuttered. It isn’t coincidence he’s up here to be fair, though he probably won’t get lucky because it’s so damn late, but hallelujah look at that, bless you FIFA, because Norway is still out celebrating their football irrelevance by drinking themselves into oblivion, and there’s a couple of guys leaning against the shadowy wall, watching him approach.

They’re wearing football kit, and he’s just about to swerve away, thinking he’s got it wrong, when he realises they’re leaning in _that_ pose, an open invitation.

Even draws near and looks at them consideringly. One of them – in an _Al-Ain_ FC shirt with ABDULRAHMAN on the back – looks familiar – a tall olive skinned guy with dark hair; a regular at this particular cruising ground and a part-time dealer. The other wears a Norway shirt with SVENSSEN on the back and an Ullevaal scarf; a tall preppy-looking guy with brown hair swept artificially over his left eyebrow, and dark brown eyes in a pale, slightly haughty face.

Even isn’t in any mood to be picky at the moment; they’ll do, because right now absolutely anybody will.

“Halla,” Even says casually, hooking his fingers into the loops of his jeans and looking at the first guy steadily. “Elias, isn’t it?”

Elias turns to look at him – he’s pretty wasted, and the remains of a blunt burns dangerously close to his fingertips. His eyes are glassy and he’s not too steady on his feet.

“Hey Erik,” he says, offering him the joint, and Even doesn’t have any energy to correct him. “You here to party?”

Even nods, taking a drag, and the tall guy shoots a dark-eyed glance up and down his body.

“I only top,” he says shortly, and Even just shrugs in bored assent; he doubts he has anything left in him anyway after the girls, and to be honest right now he’s just after sex that doesn’t remind him of Isak in any shape or form – _stop thinking about Isak_ – so if it means being fucked by a couple of random guys tonight then that’s just fine by him.

Although Even considers himself versatile as a person, his dynamic with Isak never reached these levels so he reckons bottoming will be comfortingly unfamiliar. Just being here is bringing back memories of his first experimental cruising while he was still dating Sonja – _ugh, stop thinking about Sonja_ – and anyway, anything to take away the thought of Isak in the Russian daddy’s swimming pool needs to be tried.

“Let’s go back here,” says Elias, leading them off somewhat unsteadily, and Even follows, not really thinking; in a way he doesn’t feel horny at all in the way he did with Emma and Sonja, but his mind is still screaming at him and he doesn’t want to go _home_ , not home with the creaky step and the dodgy paintwork in the bathroom that Isak never completed and his smell still in the living room and the sweater he left dropped down the side of the bed –

“You okay? Finish this up,” and Elias presses the scrap of joint between Even’s lips for a last draw, and as Even spits out the coal, the dealer leans forward, pushing his lips on to his mouth, fingers stroking at his hips.

Even involuntarily takes a step backwards and finds himself pressed up against the lavatory wall. Elias adjusts the angle and licks greedily into his mouth, cupping his hands around Even’s throat. He’s not a bad kisser at all, and Even goes with it for a while – _what a night this is turning out to be_ – pondering vaguely on how guys taste salty and alkaline and girls taste sour or sweet, and the various reasons why this could be.

Elias moans a little, pressing himself against Even, rolling his hips against Even’s groin, seeking friction. It’s uncomfortably like Isak’s opener to proceedings and Even pushes him away slightly to get some headspace, preferring to run his thumbs around Elias’s hardening junk, not meeting the dealer’s eye.

The tall guy watches them hungrily, hand stroking inside his pocket for a while.

“Come on then,” mutters Elias to Even, starting to pull down his shorts. “You’re it.”

Even kneels down on the gritty floor – fuck, it’s a _while_ since he’s been here – and helps Elias manoeuvre his way out of his shorts. There’s a movement to the other side of him and he looks up to see the tall guy taking his phone out.

“No phones,” he says shortly, and the guy shrugs innocently. “I just wanted –”

“No phones, or you don’t get to fuck me,” says Even warningly, and Elias nods. “Put it away, Will, you dick, or you can leave right now.”

The guy rolls his eyes, but obediently shoves his phone back in his jacket and watches intently. Elias has kicked his shorts to the side and Even can see the dealer’s blunt cock bulging through his white D&G’s which quickens his interest slightly – what’s not to like about a thick dick sheathed in expensive underwear – and he leans forward and mouths up the length of him, feeling Elias groan and grab at his neck, squeezing it painfully.

“Slow down,” he mutters, shrugging Elias’s hand away, and burrows his face against the other man’s pelvis, biting provocatively at his hip bones and nipping at the waistband of his boxers, pulling it slightly open and then letting it go with a snap.

“Sorry,” says Elias, hand now firm on the back of his head. “That better?”

Even grunts in response – his nostrils are full of Elias, of the smell of expensive denim, cologne and weed, overlaid with the musky scents of sex and rubberish latex. He doesn’t smell _at all_ like Isak, and that’s all he wants, right now, just total physical displacement and abandon. The thought makes him horny all of a sudden, in a bitter, wanton, competitive way.

He takes a deep breath and pulls down the dealer’s boxers with a swift tug.

The dealer is medium-sized but pretty thick in girth once Even’s finished warming him up; palming him expertly and tracing him teasingly over his lips, letting the head of his cock sink into his hollowed-out cheek, then nudging at it with his tongue. He’s circumcised, cut quite high, so Even spits on it a couple of times, and runs his lips wetly over the head, savouring the dark taste of musky skin, the sour remnants of sperm and the plasticky taste of lube. Elias must have had it at least once before him tonight, and he’s probably not going to be the last.

“Damn, just _suck_ it will you,” says Elias inelegantly, pulling somewhat painfully on his hair, and Even shrugs and opens his mouth.

The essential part of him always wants to make it good for a partner, but he’s not sure he can bother with all that shit right now; it might be easier for Elias just to fuck his mouth until he comes. He lets his neck go slack and feels the dealer clench a hand around the back of his throat with a muffled curse.

“Open up, white boy, you little slut,” Elias breathes, bracing himself on the side of the wall with one hand, and with the other, holding the back of Even’s head as he starts to thrust along his tongue. “You’re a bitch for brown dick aren’t you? All you white boys are.”

Even hollows his cheeks and extends his neck so that the dealer can get a clear run, and there’s a squelching sound as Elias mercilessly thuds against the back of his throat for a few strokes. It’s a million miles away from how Isak tastes and smells – _stop_ – and Elias grunts in satisfaction and pulls out, changing position to brace his foot on a jutting brick, bend his knee over Even’s shoulder and fuck into his mouth again. The guy watching has his cock out now, jerking it intently, watching them, his hand moving faster and faster.

“Come here,” Even manages to gasp, holding out a hand, and the guy’s face settles into a leer as he moves over. Even opens his mouth and grasps them both in each hand, turning his head to alternate long slow sucks between the two cocks, then brings them both into his mouth to swallow them both down. It’s a bit of a party trick of his, and this is probably the moment to wheel it out; the second guy is gasping and appreciating it a lot, if the copious dribble of pre-cum is anything to go by.

“Don’t stand so close to me, faggot,” says Elias snappishly, and the other guy moves away from him awkwardly. “Go fuck him if you need it that bad, William.”

Even feels the other guy moving behind him, and hands reaching round to unbuckle his belt. “Wait,” he gasps, trying to reach behind him to push the guy off a minute. “Do you have a condom?”

“Don’t worry about those. I’m safe,” the tall guy says, taking Even’s hips firmly and tugging his jeans down. “I won’t come inside you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Even tries to wriggle him off, but Elias is in front of him, hand closing around his neck, pressing him back down with the controlling flat of his hand.

“Hey, ssssh, beautiful, don’t need to shout,” whispers Elias, holding his neck firmly and stroking his back like a farmer comforting an uneasy colt. “Stay right there, white boy, stay there.”

“I’ve got lube,” says William, and there’s the snap of a packet and the squelch as he slicks up.

Even drops his head, defeated; _whatever_ , he doesn’t care, although it’s ages since he’s been fucked by a guy it’ll be different to – _enough_. William plasters lube over his ass and positions the head of his cock ready; he doesn’t bother with prepping and Even is too far gone to mind. Elias strokes his hair, pinches his cheek, steadies him with the pressure of his hand on the back of his shoulders and prises his lips apart with his thumb.

But Even spits out Elias’s cock immediately when he feels William’s dick nudging against his ass. _Breathe out, bear down_ he thinks, forcing himself to relax, but he can’t restrain a cry as the other guy pushes in. William doesn’t bother to take particular care, nobody does here, and he’s not concerned with making it particularly good for Even, or waiting til he adjusts; it’s a long time since he’s had a cock in him and his body is reacting unfavourably to the intrusion.

“Keep sucking,” instructs Elias, trying to guide himself back inside Even’s mouth, but Even grits his teeth and breathes hard, it’s painful more than pleasurable but that’s good in itself, it’s nothing he can associate with Isak, unless _this_ is how Isak’s feeling right now, being fucked by Jacob in some oligarch daddy’s swimming pool –

“Get off,” he mutters, trying to push the guy away. “I need a minute.”

“Sorry bitch, I’ve only just started,” mutters back William, he’s got a posh, offhand tone, he’s the type of guy who always gets what he wants and damn everybody else. “You’re so good and tight though, I’m sure I won’t last long.”

“Come on, white boy,” mutters Elias, squeezing at Even’s neck until he opens his mouth again. “Don’t be such a fucking pussy.”

William’s movements pick up speed and harshness until Even is flinching at every thrust, and Elias doesn’t seem to care whether he’s giving Even any pleasure and to be honest, right now Even doesn’t care either. It just fills up space, fills up time, and the intense sensation does drown everything out for a few minutes of blissful white noise, broken only by the occasional grunt or moan from one of the men as they change position or angle.

“Fuck,” mutters William finally, driving inside him for one, two, three last strokes. Then he flops over Even’s back, saliva drooling onto his skin, and Even feels the stinging trickle of William’s sperm in his bruised ass.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t come in me,” he whispers angrily, and the tall guy shrugs and grins unapologetically as he pulls out, shaking his dick dry.

“Yeah? Think of it as a compliment, bitch.”

“Fuck, I need a turn,” says Elias, abandoning his attempt to push his cock back into Even’s mouth and swinging himself quickly behind him. Even winces, feeling the stinging as Elias enters him without preamble and fucks himself mercilessly through the cum already left in his ass by William. There’s a couple of minutes more of white noise but it’s pretty soon that the dealer is shuddering to a stop, straining hard and pulling uncomfortably on Even’s hips as he rocks out his final load.

“Whew,” puffs Elias, wet cock steaming in the cold air like a racing stallion as he pulls out roughly and gets to his feet, looking at Even panting on his knees. “Not bad, white boy. We should have a rematch sometime.”

“I can go again,” offers William, and he does. Even’s getting used to it by now, the hard unrelenting strokes are exactly what he needs, they make his brain go blank and his eyes mist over, and after only a couple of minutes he groans in protest when William suddenly pulls out as he’s getting close.

“No, don’t stop,” he mutters, but William is pulling at his hair. “Come on. Face up.”

Even looks up and William spatters over his face, flicking his cock on his cheek, smelling the acrid smell of spunk dripping in his nostrils. He’s obviously got a blinding kink, because he makes sure to unload over Even’s eyes as much as possible; Even screws up his face immediately but it stings, and he’s scrabbling around blinded for a few minutes to scrub his eyes clean with the back of his wrist, hearing William grunt with satisfaction and Elias draw in his breath and snatch at his hair, hard, evidently encouraged enough to give it to Even in his mouth again.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” whispers Elias. “Open up, bitch.”

The dealer is experienced at second-rounds and surprisingly fast; Even chokes as a large mouthful of sperm rushes into the back of his throat after only a few hard plunges. He coughs and spits to the side, feeling raw and scraped and stinging all over.

“We good now?” asks Elias.

Even sighs, wiping his mouth and face with his hand. He feels sticky and dirty, and tired and used, but above all, he’s not feeling and not thinking at all.

It’s what he was after, it was what he needed, but he still feels strangely empty.

“We’re good.”

***

Now he’s walking through Grunerlokka, and the air is chilled, and it’s 4am, and he doesn’t want to go back home but it’s so late now that even the rent boys and the weed chiefs have called it a night. It’s uncertain what he’s going to do now, he doesn’t want to go back home, maybe he’ll head down to one of the Turkish-run cafes to see if they’re still open –

What time is it in Russia now?

They’ll be waking up soon, Isak waking up with Jacob – in … a couple of hours…

_Stop thinking._

He’s not too sure of a shortcut, and he’s not happy to be wandering around lost, so he switches his phone back on and searches for iMaps. While it’s connecting, there’s a buzz of notifications on his phone and he looks down at it, stopping short.

Ten missed calls, texts and voicemails –

Now someone’s ringing him, and –

HOME ISSY flashes up on the screen.

Even shakes his head in confusion. It can’t be. Isak’s in _Russia_ ; in Russia waking up sleepy and horny with Jacob after a long night having sex in a rich sugar daddy’s swimming pool in wet over-the-knee football socks, not back home ringing him. It can’t be.

The phone trembles in his hand and he’s got to do something, maybe it’s a crossed line, or some kind of weirdness, maybe he can’t see straight, maybe –

He takes a decision, presses the receive button and holds it to his ear.

“Uhhh - Even?” It’s Isak’s voice for sure, but not how he knows it; he sounds small, and anxious and scared. It’s an Isak that Even hasn’t heard for a while, not since the unhappy, irritable, argumentative Isak of the last few months took his place.

“Isak? Baby?” The endearment slips out before he can stop it. “I mean, where are you?”

“I’m at home,” says Isak. “Where _are_ you?”

“Oh,” says Even, stunned. “I thought you were in Russia for two weeks.”

There’s a long pause before Isak sighs. “I came back early. I’ve been ringing you for hours, I thought you’d be home.”

“Yeah, well I’m out,” snaps Even before he can stop himself, all the hurt spilling out like blood from a wound.

Isak huffs a sigh. It’s plain he doesn’t want to argue, but also worried about where Even _is_ , what he might be doing. “Where – where are you?”

“Partying,” says Even shortly, and he can hear Isak’s rebuffed silence and feels slightly defiant; he doesn’t _owe_ him anything, though, least of all an explanation.

“How was – how was your evening?” Isak asks hesitantly after a while.

 _I’ve just spent my evening inside your ex-girlfriend until she was screaming my name_ , Even wants to retort furiously, _before two guys spent it inside me to stop me screaming yours_.

“It was okay,” he says finally, because the strongest part of him just wants to _talk_ to Isak, not push him away. Nothing he’s done tonight seems able to block Isak out anyway. “How was your – your holiday? Did you have fun?”

“Not much,” Isak says, and there’s a silence, and Even feels his eyes prickle; there it is, the first lie Isak’s ever told him.

 _This is how it starts_ , he thinks, _the first lie, and then there’ll be others, and finally we’ll start secretly seeing other people, and it will get messy just like when we first met all over again, apart from it won’t be with you_.

There’s a ping and he looks at the text notif on his phone.

_That was hot. Save this number in case you wanna hook up again._

Emma? Or Elias? His finger hovers over the save button.

“Well actually,” says Isak, and it sounds like he’s about to cry. “I’m not telling the truth. Something did happen. And it made me realise.”

“Realise what?” asks Even, his voice barely above a whisper, he wants Isak to _say_ it; _I’ve fallen in love with Jacob, I’m over you, we’re done._

Isak’s voice sounds oddly lonely. “Realise that – I’ve been – _stupid_. Listen – we can’t go into it over the phone. Come back and let’s talk.”

“About fucking Jacob in the swimming pool?” enquires Even icily.

There’s a shocked silence from the other end of the line and Even can feel it as clearly as if there’s subtitles; Isak’s standing there holding the phone, he’s standing next to their old battered yellow table that they’d got from the thrift store, his hands trembling, tears in his eyes, afraid that he’s lost Even, lost him forever.

“I never stopped thinking about you for a second, please, _Even_ , listen to me – ”

Even puts his hand over his face, furious at the way his eyes are leaking, the way his mouth is shaking, and the stupid, childish, animal like sobs that he’s trying to hold back.

Isak’s voice trembles. “That’s what I wanted to tell you, baby, I missed you so badly, I’m sorry I just went off like that –” but Even can’t speak, won’t speak, he feels he’s going to break apart if he does.

_You fucked Jacob, but I fucked four people, he thinks, and I couldn’t forget you for a second._

“Baby, just come home. Come home. Please -” Isak says but Even hangs up.

He pushes the phone back into his pocket, and stands, uncertain, for a long, cold, frightening minute, grief and hope battling inside him.

It’s bitterly cold and dark; the last night winds are still coursing bitterly around the deserted streets, but on the horizon there’s the dim, pale glow of the approaching dawn.

Even sighs, deletes the text that he’s just received without knowing who it’s come from, pushes his phone in his pocket, and takes the first step on the long, weary road back to home.

 

***** THE END *****

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm always into wild self-destructive Evak break-up fics but I thought they deserved just a glimmer of a happy ending — they obviously still love each other but will they work it out??? let me know what you thought!


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